Her lips trembled with anger.
“Because he is my son.”
“And I was your daughter-in-law.”
“You were never soft enough for him.”
“No,” I said. “I was useful enough.”
She looked away first.
That gave me more satisfaction than I expected.
Then she whispered, “He won’t survive prison.”
“Then he should have survived honesty.”
Lidia’s eyes filled, but I did not trust her tears.
“You are cruel,” she said.
I walked to my desk and picked up a small envelope.
“Do you know what this is?”
She stared at it.
“No.”
“It is every monthly transfer I sent you for nine years. Rent. Medical bills. Travel. Gifts. Emergency repairs. Your dental surgery. Your sister’s hospital fees. Your birthday trip to Madrid.”
Her face went gray.
I placed the envelope in her hand.
“You lived from my cruelty very comfortably.”
She looked down.
For once, she had no answer.
I walked to the door and opened it.
“We are done.”
She stood frozen.
Then, quietly, she said, “He told me you offered. That the money meant nothing to you.”
I looked back at her.
“And you believed him because it was convenient.”
Her lips parted.
No words came out.
After she left, Victor stood beside me.
“That was brutal.”
“She taught me.”
The legal process moved like a storm with paperwork.
Every few days, another truth surfaced.
Mauricio had borrowed money using my reputation.
Mauricio had promised investors access to deals he had no authority to touch.
Mauricio had told Valentina I was emotionally unstable.
Mauricio had told his mother I refused children.
Mauricio had told everyone a different story, and somehow every version made him the victim.
But lies are fragile things.
They survive in darkness.
Not in documents.
Two weeks later, I met Valentina.
She asked for the meeting through Victor.
He advised against it.
I agreed anyway.
